Chapter 330

The reflection staring back at me in the mirror seemed foreign, like a stranger I once knew but lost touch with. I adjusted the collar of my shirt, attempting to straighten out the mess that was my life. Mia bustled around the room, looking feverishly for something.

"Evie, darling, could you spin around for me?" Mia's voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to face her, plastering on a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

As I rotated slowly, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that weighed heavily on my shoulders. Timothy was still behind bars, a consequence of our desperate attempt to carve out a better life for ourselves.

“Beautiful. I’m going to go look for my camera,” she said urgently, rushing out of the room. The door swung closed behind her, and I sighed from the momentary relief.

I heard a faint buzzing noise and glanced around the room, searching for its source. Mia must have left her phone lying on the couch again. I strode over to it and picked it up, the screen illuminating with a new message from an unknown sender.

My heart clenched as I read the words, my pulse quickening with each passing second. They wanted their payment soon. My mind raced as I tried to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic message. Payment for what? And from whom?

Without hesitation, I fired off a response, my fingers trembling against the screen. "What do you mean?"

The reply came swiftly, dripping with aggression and malice. "You know damn well what I mean. I got my nephew locked away, and now it's time for you to pay up."

Shock coursed through me like an electric current, rendering me speechless. Quinton. It had to be him. I should have known better than to trust someone with such a shady past, but desperation makes fools of us all.

Before I could process the gravity of the situation, Mia burst into the room, camera in hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Evie, darling, you look positively radiant! Now, spin around for me, would you?"

I forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging beneath the surface. As I twirled obediently, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal gnawing at my insides. How could Quinton do this to Timothy?

Mia's voice pulled me back to reality, her words jolting me out of my reverie. "I plan on having all the bridesmaids in lavender. It really goes with the theme of elegance.”

I adjusted one of the straps of the dress and hummed. “Have you found a dress yet, Mom? I feel like you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to have your own bridal session."

She nodded absentmindedly, still observing the photos she’d taken. "I’ll show you in just a moment. I wanted to have you in the album as reference for the others.”

But as Mia continued to chatter excitedly about fabrics and fittings, I couldn't shake the feeling that our carefully constructed facade was crumbling around us. Timothy's fate hung in the balance, and now, with Quinton's betrayal looming over us like a shadow, I feared that our chance at redemption might have slipped through our fingers.

But I refused to let despair consume me. I might be backed into a corner, but I'd be damned if I let Quinton—or the murderer himself—have the last laugh.

As Mia's attention flitted between dresses and camera angles, I stole a moment to slip away, needing solitude to process the chaos consuming my mind. I found myself drawn to the window, the world outside a blur of motion and noise.

The weight of Quinton's betrayal pressed down on me like a leaden cloak, suffocating and relentless. How could I have been so blind? How could I have allowed myself to trust someone with such darkness lurking beneath the surface?

Suddenly, Mia's voice drifted through the room, her excitement palpable even from a distance. "Evie, darling, how would you like your hair done? I always liked you with your hair down, but a nice updo wouldn’t hurt…”

I hesitated for a moment, watching her smile at me expectantly. But ultimately, I pushed aside my doubts and plastered on a smile.

“I’m fine with either. Can I please see your wedding dress?” I asked once more. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. My mother, once so modest in the face of near-poverty, seemed to be going big this year.

Excitement radiated off Mia like heat from a flame as she rushed to the closet, her footsteps quick and eager. She returned with a dress bag clutched in her hands, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Evie, darling, you won't believe what I found!" Mia's voice was breathless with excitement as she thrust the bag into my hands. "Open it!"

I did as she said, fingers trembling as I unzipped the bag and peeled back the layers of fabric. My breath caught in my throat as I caught sight of the dress nestled within, its familiar silhouette sending shivers down my spine.

It was the dress Stella wore when she was engaged to Timothy—a custom-made masterpiece of silk, lace, and pearls that once held so much promise. But now, its presence served as a bitter reminder of everything we’d been through.

"Did Mrs. Fitzgerald give you this dress?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I struggled to comprehend Mia's excitement.

Mia's face fell, her eyes darkening with offense. "No, Evie, she didn't," she snapped, her tone sharp and clipped. "I found it on my own, and I fell in love with it the moment I saw it."

Guilt gnawed at me like a hungry beast as I realized the implications of my question. I hadn't meant to imply that Mia couldn't afford her own dress, but my words had clearly struck a nerve.

Before I could offer an apology, the doorbell rang, cutting through the tension like a knife. I glanced at Mia, my heart pounding in my chest. "You should go answer that," I said, my voice strained with unease. "I'll take care of the dress."

Mia hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on me. "The maids can get that," she said carefully. "Anyway, we have a lot to do before the shoot."

I sighed and turned my attention back to the dress. But as I attempted to unzip the back, my fingers fumbled with the delicate fabric, the task proving more difficult than I anticipated.

Just as I began to make some progress, a voice echoed down the hallway, sending a chill down my spine. "Excuse me, but is Evie here?"

My heart lurched in my chest as I recognized the voice—it was Lucas.

I quickly abandoned my attempts to wrestle with the dress and made my way to the door, my pulse racing with apprehension. As I swung it open, I was met with the sight of Lucas standing in the hallway, his expression tense and agitated.

"Lucas? What are you doing here?" I blurted out, unable to mask the tension in my voice. The last thing I needed right now was for my mother to meddle in another one of my relationships.

But Lucas ignored my question, his gaze darting past me to where Mia stood just a few paces away, her expression one of confusion and concern. "Evie, I need to speak with you," he said, his tone urgent. "It's about Aria."

My eyes widened in disbelief as I processed Lucas's words, a hand flying to my mouth in shock. "Aria? Is she... is she okay?" I stammered.

Lucas nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Yes, she woke up a few hours ago," he explained, his voice hoarse with emotion. "She wants to see you."